


Tight

by Doppeltrolle



Category: Victorious
Genre: Breathplay, F/M, Fetish, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doppeltrolle/pseuds/Doppeltrolle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beck comes into something about himself entirely by accident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight

They would never understand anyway. How could they? Sure, they would overlook it for the sake of "but you're so hot", but it wasn't what I needed.

If I craved acceptance, I wouldn't be here.

No, I needed something more than what they could give me. That's how I found you. At first, I wasn't sure if you were up to that responsibility. _Don't give me that look when you know I'm right._

I'd fallen asleep one night, the steel dog tags you'd given me still loped around my neck. You liked the contrast, the olive skin against something so bright. You insisted I wear them more often. Even in the early days of our relationship, I couldn't refuse an order by you, even if it was politely gift-wrapped as a suggestion. It had been a late night out, you and I, just patrolling the downtown streets and talking about your latest script ideas. I'd given you ideas you hadn't encountered, and we'd both parted that night with things to think about. You never thanked me, by the way, I know those notes made it onto paper later. I won't forget that night, because I woke up, the chain twisted about my neck in a way that made me gasp, struggling to breathe. It momentarily terrified me; my fingers digging at it, trying to unsnap the clasp at my adam's apple.

When I'd managed to pull free from the confines I dropped it quickly onto my lap. I couldn't remember ever being so stupid, knowing I could have strangled in my sleep. What was stranger to me, though, was the fact that my heart wasn't racing from the fear. I wasn't as adrenaline-shaken as I should have been. In all reality, I was excited.

 _No,_ not like, excited that I was alive and unharmed, but actually aroused. Thrilled. I only felt a stirring in my lower stomach at this that calmed me, turned into something more pleasurable than scary.

I put them back on before I fell back asleep.

For several months it festered inside of me, this little bit of pleasure than had become somewhat of a fetish. When I knew it aroused me, I used it to get off. In those precious few seconds before I claimed release I'd use my free hand to grab my chain, thinking of your pale fingers around it instead. The feeling was immeasurable; I'd never felt anything close to that in my life. Sometimes, I'd wish it were your hand alone, your darkly-polished nails digging into my skin until red, crescent-shaped welts appeared.

Do you remember how you found out about it? When we were fooling around? I'd gotten so used to finishing like that, it became harder with just touching. It seemed too gentle. I saw the accusing look in your eyes when you realized how long our fooling around had gone on: Who had I been with that would make me feel better than you could?

I whispered to you then, almost too quietly, to grab me. I tilted my head back, entire body trembling with what I was asking of you. The amount of trust I displayed to you in that moment to not run, or refuse. I rarely asked anything of you, in fact. When you did, it was like an explosion -- pent-up emotion and frustration flooding out at once.

When I'd gotten myself under control the realization in your eyes spoke more than you did. In fact, the only time you spoke was when you dug your heels into my lower back, urging me faster, whispering, _Do it to me._ I was gentle, gentler than I am now. For your first time though, it was exhilarating.

_You're making that face again when you don't want me to go into detail. But it's my story. ___

We've come a long way since then, and our need has grown. We know from a glance when we're needed, without speaking. It's not just in the bedroom that we need our desires taken care of. It's become a part of our everyday lives. Every time we have an interview, a casting call, a deadline. Whenever we're angry, stressed, overwhelmed -- Whenever we need comfort. Sometimes when you're in one of your moods, it's all you need to relax when my hand grabs the back of your neck so hard I can hear the intake of breath leave your lips.

And sometimes when I can't sleep, when everyone else kicks off the covers in order to feel free; I don't need to ask to feel the tight press of your pale fingers to leave me with that hazy sensation that's almost

_  
choking._

**Author's Note:**

> Traveling to the darker side, now, broaching and testing the waters with ideas I've yet to play with. So tell me - How'd I do? I don't care if it's one word, or two paragraphs; comments, critiques are all appreciated. :) Thanks for reading!


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